


In the Eyes of a Stranger

by starbreads



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Just lots of fluff, The original characters are the strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:30:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starbreads/pseuds/starbreads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various Supergirl pairings as seen through a stranger's eyes. You can read each chapter independently, but they all tie in to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Eyes of a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Bianca and Jordan for the first chapter.

There's a table in the back of your favorite coffee house. It's well worn, rings embedded in the warm wood by countless patrons carelessly setting down their glasses and leaving them for hours as they get lost in conversation, in each other. You've seen it happen time and time again, young lovers too caught up in themselves to notice the world around them, paying no mind to the damage -however minimal- they're causing. There's a small part of you that hates them; millenials have always had it easy and thusly have become careless. 

Besides, it's been a while since you've believed in love, you've been in this world for too long, hoping for things to get right, get better, but they only seem to get worse, and it's made you cynical. That's why when you see a pair of lovers, a group of friends, you grumble and turn away, more content to read your morning paper and shut the world out than have the echo of their laughter ringing in your ears. 

It's one of those morning again, when a pair of young lovers accidentally bump into your table. The shorter one, grey eyes bright and with a smile like the sun after the rain, apologizes profusely, offering to buy you another cup of coffee that had been the unfortunate victim of her partner running into your table. You wave her away with a shake of your hand and a half-hearted grunt, and her partner whisks her away to the table in the back. 

You can't help but watch them over the top of your newspaper. They sit across from each other, and you wonder if they know how in sync they are, how they seem to gravitate towards one another, like two stars destined to collide with each other, when one moves the other follows, closer and closer until they're almost touching.

For the first time in a long time, you smile, knowing when those two stars finally collide, it'll be wonderful. 

You stop and frown when you catch yourself, sighing as you wave over a waitress as she walks by and you ask her for another cup of coffee. She fills your cup and you go back to your paper, reading yet again of Supergirl's heroics, forgetting about the young couple almost entirely. 

It's about time for you to get going and follow the rest of your daily routine, when you remember the two women who'd ran into your table earlier in the morning. You look over at their table, and give a slight incredulous scoff at the sight. 

They've changed positions now, sitting right next to each other, heads bowed close together as they whisper what you assume to be sweet-nothing's into each other's ears. But it's not what's gotten your attention. It's the sight of their cups placed properly on coasters that had made you scoff. You hastily roll up your paper, pay the check, and make your way out. 

The next day, they've beat you to the coffee house. You spot them again at the table in the back, but this time they've brought a pair of friends, who you assume are also a couple as their hands are tightly clasped together over the top of the table. You notice then that the woman who'd run into your table the first day has a twin, discernible only by the streak of white that one-half of the new couple seems to wear proudly in her hair. She grins at her sister over the table and nudges her partner, making a vague gesture that you assume was a jest of some sort as the other twin rolls her eyes and leans back. 

You pull your newspaper up to your face as the waitress brings your usual, and shut the world out again.

Gradually, you learn the taller one's name is Alura, and the shorter one's name is Lucy, although you've only ever heard Alura call her 'little bird'. Somehow, you find it quite fitting, this tiny woman seems endlessly flitting, never seeming to sit still in her chair, jumping from a conversation with her lover, to her friends, and back again, as smoothly as a bird flying in the breeze. It makes you grin. 

Alura is more of a mystery, quietly observingly, only occasionally participating, stormy gray eyes perpetually focused on her little bird, as if scared she'll fly away and never return. A part of you wishes you could tell her otherwise, but you remain quiet, too aware of how cruel this world can be, and you'd rather not be the one to tell her. 

On and on, day after day, they come in, as constant a part of your morning routine as your usual newspaper and coffee, and rare is the day you don't see them, sitting at their table in the back. Sometimes they have other company, a broad shouldered man and his tiny companion with an affinity for cardigans, the second twin and her feisty partner with eyes that seem to watch everything at the same time, and the pair of blondes, one endlessly bubbly and the other quiet as a cat, with a glare hot enough to rival that of Supergirl's laser eyes. 

Occasionally they say hi to you, but mostly they keep to themselves, and despite how hard you try not to let them get to you, you're drawn to them, to their little family, and sometimes you spend more time watching them than you do on the crossword puzzles you love so much. 

Come summertime, your birthday passes by, and you find a wrapped box on your table, your name written in elegant script on the top. Inside, there's a coffee cup, the kind the coffee house sells with their name and logo emblazoned on the side. You'd been wanting one for a while but never got around to buying it for one reason or another. There's no indication of who could have given you the gift, but when you look over at Alura and Lucy's table, they smile and Lucy gives you a small wave that you hesitantly return.

You wonder how they, of all people, could have known it was your birthday, but as the waitress comes by and fills your brand new cup, you know. When you leave, there's a rather generous tip on the table for her. 

Seasons pass and yet, Alura and Lucy are always there, as constant as the sun and the moon and just as contradictory, but that is why you think they're so perfect for each other. Somehow in a world full of hate and violence, these two women seem to have found love, and you are endlessly happy for them, even if you don't do much to show it. That's why, when winter is passing by and the holiday spirit seem to fill the air around you, you feel compelled to do something for them in return, even if you think commercial holidays are a load of bogus. 

It's the day before Christmas Eve, and along with you regular newspaper you have a box tucked under your arm. It's simply wrapped, the topped covered in your crooked handwriting.

‘‘To Alura and her Little Bird. Happy Holidays from your coffee house neighbor.’

You place the box on their usual table and then sit at yours, silently hoping that they don't miss today of all days. 

You're not disappointed when only a short while later they come in, giving you a cheery holiday greeting as they walk by you to sit at their table. Your newspaper is forgotten as you watch them, quietly hoping they like your gift. 

There's a soft gasp of surprise as the paper falls away to reveal matching scarves, and a gift card to the coffee house. There's no hesitation as they scramble in a mad dash over to your table and stand in front of it, Lucy vibrating excitedly and Alura nervously shifting from foot to foot. 

“Hi! Um, are these for us?” Lucy gestures to the scarves she and her partner have already wrapped tightly around their necks. 

“Of course they are little bird.” You put your newspaper down and smile up at them. 

“Right! Ha” Lucy laughs, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest, “I'm Lucy and this is my partner Alura.”

“Hello” Alura nods in greeting, her voice soft and melodic. 

“I'm Michael.” You say, extending your hand so they can shake it in turn. You gesture to the empty seats in front of them, “please, sit. Your coffee order is on me today.”

They sit, and as if on cue, Maggie the waitress sets down cups in front of the women. “Your usual, ladies.” 

“Thank you.” Lucy beams up at Maggie before taking a sip of her drink and sighing contentedly. 

“Of course” you nod and smile, leaning back slightly to watch as the love birds before you grin contentedly at each other. 

“Michael, just out of curiousity, why?” Alura asks as she sets her cup down and turns her stormy gray eyes on you. 

You shrug, and lean forward, “I'm going to let you girls in on a little secret of mine.” You say it in a conspiratorial whisper, causing Alura and Lucy to scoot closer to you, leaning close together to hear you better. 

“You helped me believe again.” You lean back with a smile. 

They look confused, Alura arching an eyebrow and looking curiously between you and Lucy. 

“Believe? Believe in what?” Lucy asks, her brow furrowing. 

“Believe that's there's hope again. That there is still good in this world. You are prime examples of that.” You reply, smiling fondly. 

There's a twinkle in Alura’s eyes like she's suddenly realized what you've said and smiles brightly. She whispers something softly to her little bird. You're not sure what the language is, the words forming somewhere in the back of her throat before pushing their way out of her mouth the syllables flowing all together and you're not sure if it's one word or several. 

It sounds something like ‘el may-ra’ but despite your grasp of several languages the meaning is unclear to you, although Lucy smiles and nods. 

“I get it now.” Lucy laughs, delighted, opening her mouth to speak again when she's interrupted by a high tinkling sound. 

“Excuse me,” Alura says, the precious moment interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. She brings the device to her face and frowns slightly “it's Astra.”

Lucy turns to you smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, probably a work emergency. You know, you should join us for Christmas dinner. I'm sure Kara won't mind. Unless, of course, you have other plans?”

“No, no plans. But are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose…” You trail off slightly. Christmas with Alura and her little bird, and probably all their friends sounds a lot better than the TV dinner you had planned. 

“Of course!” Lucy is practically jumping in her seat from excitement, causing Alura to roll her eyes in her direction without pause from her call.

Lucy makes quick work of pulling out a slip of paper and jotting something down. She passes it to you across the table and you take it without looking. 

“That was Astra, she needs us back at work.” Alura pockets the phone again, looking suddenly serious. 

“Ah,of course. Wouldn't want the boss to get upset, right?” 

“Technically, my Little Bird here is the boss.” Alura grins.

You can't help but laugh at Lucy’s oncoming blush, but then she scowls when she notices you and Alura sporting matching grins. 

“Thank you so much Michael, for everything. We really do have to go.” Lucy smiles again, standing up and enveloping you in an unexpected hug. “You're coming for Christmas right? You have to.”

“Of course I'll be there Little Bird. Eight o'clock right?” You say as you hug her back. 

She pulls away so Alura can take her place. “Yep, eight on the dot.”

Alura places a soft kiss on your cheek and steps back, taking Lucy's hand. “See you later Michael, and thank you so much.”

A quick wave and a goodbye later, you're sitting alone at the table, playing with the edges of the paper Licy handed you. There's an address and a number on it, the address indicating one of the higher end neighborhoods that sit on the edge of National City. 

Those two seem to surprise you every day, with today being no exemption. For the first time in over 30 years, you're excited for Christmas again. You've got a feeling it's going to be a good one.


End file.
